Untitled
by crystal binoculars
Summary: She was alone, damned to an eternity of torturous pain. He was gone - he hadn't wanted her. She had finally gotten her wish, but now, that wish was worthless, burdening her rather than enhancing as long as she was without her very reason for existence.
1. Chapter 1

**My Immortal** by **Evanescence**

_ I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_

_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along_

* * *

He had left her to rot and wither, to burn and char to her very core. Her complexion was flawless; it remained a soft, chromatic white, as it had stayed for the past forty-two years. Her exterior was the picture of superior perfection, though she was a sizzled shell on the inside of what she once was. Her long mahogany hair was shining and waved to just above her waist, framing her lovely heart-shaped face. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, her eyes large, intense, golden, though wonderfully doe-like. Her lips were lush and plump, colored naturally a soft, welcoming pink. She was slender, sporting all the right curves in all the right places. She was the picture of beautiful innocence, a dreamlike girl any woman would die to be and any man would die to be with.

And yet, she was stained, ruined beyond repair. Her disease was incurable, her broken pieces shattered long past mending. Her beauty was marred by the anguished grimace twisting those lovely lips, tainting those large topaz eyes with a horrid glaze akin only to devastating heartbreak. Her heart, no longer beating, had been broken forty-two years ago; now, it was ground, smashed, slit, crushed, pulverized. It was hard to believe she still had a heart -- the only indication was the inexplicable, perpetual torture she felt, day in and day out.

All of her hopes and aspirations were in a state painfully similar to her stilled heart. Her one desire was an impossibility, a ghost that haunted her constantly, taunting and ruining her further. All she wanted was to see _him, _to feel his strong arms around her, to hear his soft breathing and only his breathing. She couldn't bear to think his name; long ago she had trained herself to never address him that way, for she feared she would collapse and never get up if she did. She was sure that would happen -- it was a certainty.

All of this, all of the torture, the pain, the agony, all to bear for eternity. Though she could never visit the real pits of Hades, this hell was real enough.

* * *

It took all she had for the lovely brunette to not fall to her knees and cry out. The familiar rain, falling heavily upon the dark forest, was both a comfort and a horrifying reminder of what she had once had here. Her pace was slow, almost to the point of humanity, languid for a being such as herself. Sobs continuously tried to surface, to break through her dormant expression. She couldn't allow them to, for if they did, the shell would not resurface for days.

Her gaze was blank as she stared at the very trees she had once stood by with him. The scent of humans was heavy in the air, suffocating her, though they were no more appealing than the deer she also detected. She was barely aware of the burn in the very back of her throat, sizzling and crackling like an open flame. She would have to hunt soon before she made an appearance in the small, rainy town of Forks -- she had caught her reflection in a pool of crystalline water and her eyes had morphed into a monstrous, devouring black.

So many memories were ripped fresh. She drew in a shaky breath, her small, pale hands trembling by her sides. She tried to focus on resteadying her breathing, regulating it like a well-oiled machine. It was a challenge, though, just like everything else was these days.  
Each step took a shocking amount of effort.

She was frighteningly near where she had been broken, where she had been pierced by a poison spear. She was also near where she had been damned by the vengeful redhead who she still feared to that very day -- Victoria. It had been pure unluckiness that the horrid vampire had not killed her -- those three monsters had scared her away. She remembered them very clearly as they watched her claw at her clothing and her face, writhing and screaming in unadulterated agony. Their animalistic expressions had been hard with only the tiniest bit of sympathy in them, angering her, making her scream louder, making her cries longer. Why hadn't the horse-sized wolves killed her? She had wanted to die more than anything.

Her well-formed blankness was shot with a tortured shutter. Her hand brushed against the rough, nearly black bark of a mossy tree. Why had she come here? Did she want to experience freshened anguish? Was she truly that much of a masochist?

She stopped moving to collect herself, standing like a perfect, lovely statue in the middle of the rain and trees. She sucked in a trembling, deep breath, but froze as soon as a new scent pierced her. Instinctively, her muscles tensed, tightening around her hard bone. Her lip curled slightly and her black gaze flickered fiercely, as quick and thoroughly as possible, around her. Whipping around, she turned to face the owner of the new scent. She knew that it was a vampire, but she was not prepared for what she saw. How had she not heard the other's footsteps? How had she just now caught their scent?

Her nostrils flared, her mouth dropped, her eyes widened, as she stared at the breathtaking blond vampire standing a hundred feet behind her, who mirrored her stance and expression to perfection. Utter awe filled her, along with the beginnings of dread. The air was sucked out of her as if by a vacuum. Rosalie.

* * *

**What do you think? Could just be a one-shot with a cliffhanger -- I don't know. It was very fun and angsty to write, either way. Review if you feel like it, or not, if you don't. I like it; it's very _me, _with the writing style and everything. And yes, I'm aware it's quite short. Just enjoy it for what it is. I'm also sorry about the very unoriginal choice of song for this chapter -- believe me, I searched everywhere for a song other than _My Immortal, _but no other songs got the feel exactly right.**

**For the moment, it is untitled because finding a title is like finding a good chapter song: hard. So, also forgive that. If I continue, which is currently undecided and entirely dependent upon if I get feedback (and if it's good), it will most likely continue to be third person with a chapter theme song. Thanks for reading.**

**xoxo crystal binoculars.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Memory** by **Sugarcult**

_ This may never start.  
We could fall apart.  
And I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.  
Feelings insincere.  
Can I be your memory?_

_So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same._

_This may never start.  
I'll tear us apart.  
Can I be your enemy?  
Losing half a year.  
Waiting for you here  
I'd be your anything._

_So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same._

_This may never start.  
Tearing out my heart.  
I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.  
(I'd be your memory)  
Feelings disappeared.  
Can I be your memory?_

_So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same._

_This may never start.  
We could fall apart  
And I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.  
Feelings insincere.  
Can I be your memory?  
Can I be your memory?_

* * *

Rosalie was even more beautiful than she had been before to her weak human eyes. The entrancing blond was statuesque and flawless, her figure enviously perfect and her features heartbreakingly consummate. Her eyes were a bright, startling gold -- she had just finished hunting, though not a single drop of maroon tainted her smooth, designer clothing. Her ensemble was simple, something almost out of character for the vain beauty, but only a formfitting tank top and clinging jeans. Her sharp, angular features were wrought with surprise, her own lip curled just as the opposing brunette's was defensively. They mirrored each other in their stunning perfection, both wearing expressions of utter shock and disbelief. The softer looking brunette's first instinct was to make her escape, to turn on her heel and sprint away from the dazzling Rosalie, away from her daunting and painful past.

However, deep inside of her, she knew she could not truly run away from this anguishing woman. She could feel in the air that her lifeless existence had been altered in someway; whether it was a positive or negative change she was unsure.

Then, as quiet as a breath, Rosalie spoke, her bright red lips trembling as she stared at the astonished and terrified brunette, "Bella?' Her voice was unusually soft; though her human memories were clouded and buried deep, the solitary creature remembered that Rosalie always spoke with contempt, if at all, to her. Usually, all she was given was a simple but ferocious glare.

All that Rosalie showed now but shock and something else, an elusive something that she tried to identify but could not.

Automatically, Bella shrunk back, retreating but two steps. She had to suffocate a broken sob, sending it back down her vaguely burning throat. She was sure that if she could cry, tears would be streaming relentlessly down her pale face. She was sure that if her heart beat, it would be racing.

"Yes," she whispered, even more softly, though she was sure that Rosalie had heard. Her eyes closed for a moment, squeezing shut tightly, as she attempted to hold herself together. If a God existed, what has she done to deserve such a pain-wrought existence? She truly was damned to her own personal pain-wrought, earthbound hell. If only she could repent, but she suspected with a heavy, still heart that it was too late. Forty-two years too late, at least for her pitiful being.

As if they were dancing, Rosalie stepped forward gracefully, no breath coming from her parted red lips. She had closed the distance between them in one second, slowly for one such as herself, to only half of what had been. Bella could already feel her spacious mind working in instinctual, aggressive thoughts, though like her sobs, she withheld and drew them back.

"You're alive." Wonder oozed from her words, her eyes still as wide. Strangely enough, Rosalie did not have the slightest suggestion of her past aggressiveness in her face nor tone. Had she changed, as Bella had, over the past forty-two years? "You're alive.."

"Yes," the brunette, shying away, continuing to retreat step by step as the blond approached, said in a breathy whisper. Yes, she was alive, much to her anguish. What wouldn't she give to die? Long ago, she had gone to the Volturi, only to be turned down. Her lips trembled, still restraining her dry wailing.

Rosalie was beginning to overcome her shock, her mouth closing silently, her eyes now staring intensely at Bella. She stopped moving, her slender, pale hand halfway outstretched toward her. Her face gained a look of determination, one that frightened the brunette immensely. Her sharp golden eyes glinted in the dark light as the rain continued to pelt through the helpless greenery.

"Bella," she began, her voice strong and sure, "you've got to come back with me."

Bella flinched, her breath hitching. Her arms had wrapped tightly around her torso to hold herself together and they tightened automatically in response as if she was protecting herself. She was, in a sense, from her past, from the pain that now lounged in her mind, slowly but surely eroding her already dilapidated shell. For an eighty-forth of a second, she considered using her gift to escape the whole situation. It would simplify things so much, even save her from the torture she was experiencing that was bound to intensify the longer she let it develop. But she couldn't bring herself to do it: she couldn't make her mind whip the fantasy into reality, for somewhere in her head in all the space, she knew her choice would haunt her for an eternity.

"I can't. No, no, I can't.." Her voice trailed to silence at the end, and for a forth of a second, her head whipped around and her gaze flickered behind her, as if she was still considering the delicious idea of running.

Rosalie, seeming to think she was going to run, launched forward just as she looked away from the blond beauty. The sound of the earth cracking as she collided with Bella, who had no time for action. She was overwhelmed with the instinct to fight against Rosalie though she resisted it. However, another defense fell as she smothered the need to fight -- a sob ripped through her chest, broken, releasing a portion of her agony in one strangled cry. Rosalie grabbed hold of Bella's upper arms in both strong hands, hauling them both up from the wet forest floor, staring Bella square in the eye. "C'mon."

Even if she had the big enough desire to resist, she couldn't have, at least not without the use of her gift -- Rosalie was stronger and faster.

And so, Rosalie's hand still gripping her arm firmly, she was dragged along in the forest, sobbing without tears, her chest ripped apart and her dead heart being pounded into the earth. She couldn't bring herself to escape the situation, though she knew she could as easily as sucking in a breath. Her cries echoing against the bark of the trees and the pelting rain, she was helpless; she had been stripped of everything, including willpower.

She barely even realized when through the trees an immense white shape showed through that she knew as the Cullen mansion.

* * *

**I lied. I like this story even if it is extremely unoriginal (everyone needs a good cliche every now and then) so I wrote a second chapter. Whatever -- truthfully, if no one reviews, it won't be any skin off my back because I'm doing this for my enjoyment. BUT, don't get me wrong, I _love _reviews. They make my day. Yep. Enjoy if you read this.**

**xoxo crystal binoculars**


End file.
